His Brother's Bride (2 page)

Two

Dead?
Emily's mind faltered on the word. She felt her knees begin to give way. Her thoughts swam.

Cade caught her arm with a strong grip. “Whoa, there.”

She felt his hand at her back, was aware of him guiding her away from the street. He was speaking, but his words came as if from some deep cavern.

Not Thomas, Lord!
Not her dear friend in whom she'd confided. The only godly man in her life. What would she do now without him? She'd spent all her money to get here, and now there was no Thomas to meet her. No friend to marry.

Her thoughts careened wildly before coming to an abrupt halt. If Thomas were dead, she wouldn't be able to search his house for the map.

She didn't even have a way back to Uncle Stewart and Nana. She would have to tell her uncle she'd failed. That his plans were ruined. And what would he do then?

Poor Nana. How could Emily let Uncle Stewart put her in the asylum? But what choice would she have when she'd failed to find the gold?

“I'm sorry,” Cade said. “I shouldn't have told you so sudden-like.”

Emily looked at him. She was sitting on a bench beside him and wondered idly how she'd gotten there. Her satchels sat at her feet.

Her eyes stung as she looked into eyes that were probably very like Thomas's had been. This man had lost his brother not two days hence, and the pain was still written plainly on his face. She remembered his wife had died in childbirth a few years back, leaving him and his little boy alone.

Guilt swarmed her mind. How could she be so selfish as to think of her own predicament?

“I'm sorry for your loss,” she said. “You must be missing him mightily.”

He propped his elbows on his knees, and his gaze found the planked porch. “He was a good man. A faithful man.” His fingers played with the worn brim of his hat. “He cared a great deal for you.”

Emily felt her face grow warm at his perusal. She'd cared for Thomas too. She had never known a person could care so much for one they'd yet to meet.

“He was champing at the bit about your arrival. Couldn't talk of much else for days.”

Emily let the silence fall around them. She thought of the letters in her reticule and pulled the satchel closer to her body. It was all she had left of her friend. She felt like part of her had died. And in a way, it had. For Thomas had been dear to her, and she'd dreamed of a new life with him. Dreamed of children of her own. And now that dream was dead.

She looked around the town, trying to clear her mind. She had to think practically. She was on her own in a foreign town with no money and no family.
I have to get back to Nana and somehow explain to Uncle Stewart what has happened.

“You must be hungry.”

Her stomach recoiled at the thought of food. She shook her head.

“Well, you'll be wanting to head home, I reckon. I'd like to pay for the stage back to Denver and a room for tonight, if need be.”

Her heart caught at his thoughtfulness. Did he know she was nearly penniless? But she knew Thomas and Cade barely made ends meet with their farm. “I couldn't let you do that.”

“Thomas would have wanted me to.”

She opened her mouth to argue but closed it. What choice had she? “Thank you kindly,” she whispered.

He stood. “You stay right here, and I'll make arrangements.”

She managed a smile of gratitude before he turned and walked into the establishment. Her heart felt smothered with sadness. She would never meet Thomas. He would never hold her or give her the children she so desperately wanted. Tears stung her eyes. She'd thought to have a new life, but she would be going back to her old one. Only this time it would be far worse, because she had failed her uncle.

Oh, Nana, I'm sorry. I tried my best, but I've already failed you, and now Uncle Stewart might send you away for good.

It wasn't fair. Her grandmother wasn't dangerous to herself or anyone else. She was only befuddled from time to time. There was no help for that. But she deserved to be loved and cared for, not locked up like a mad woman. Her uncle didn't care about her grandmother, though. He'd gained guardianship so he could acquire her home and possessions.

Emily watched a wagon clatter by on the dirt road. The white chapel, perched on the grassy knoll, seemed to watch over the town like an eagle watches over her young. Across the street, two men loaded sacks onto their wagon bed, their muscles straining against their shirts. She could picture Thomas here, in this quaint town of Cedar Springs. He'd described it to her in his letters, and his words came alive before her very eyes. His house and farm would have been no different.
You'll love the grassy meadows and rolling hills,
he'd written.

When Cade appeared again at her side, he took her hand and helped her from the bench. She noticed she scarcely reached his shoulders.

“It's all arranged. There's no need for you to stay here tonight. The stage leaves right after the noon meal for Wichita. From there, you can catch another stage back to Denver. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Mrs. Cooper. She'll take care of you.”

She followed him to a counter where a very attractive middle-aged woman stood. After introductions, the woman picked up Emily's satchels. “Cade said you might like to clean up. You can rest a bit until your stage leaves, if you like.” She turned and made for the stairs. “Right this way, Miss.”

Emily turned awkwardly to Cade. He replaced his hat and extended his hand. “Good luck to you, Emily.”

His hand surrounded hers with warmth. She could feel calluses against the softness of her palm. “And to you.” With that, she turned and retreated up the stairs.

After closing the door behind the kindly woman, Emily sank onto the soft bed and stared at the patterned wallpaper. Its swirls and whirls seemed to echo the directions of her thoughts. Even sitting here now, she couldn't believe it was true. Thomas was dead.

“Why, God?” she whispered to the empty room. He was so young, with a full life ahead of him. She'd been so looking forward to meeting him in person. They would've been so close, she just knew it. And she longed for a close relationship. She'd felt alone ever since her mama had passed on. Even Nana, dear though she was to Emily, had not filled the loneliness because her confusion and memory loss prevented a normal discussion.

She detected the aroma of fried chicken on the air, and her stomach turned. Though she'd not eaten since dawn, she knew she couldn't force down a single bite. She needed to gather her thoughts, to figure out what she was going to do.

She reached into her reticule and pulled out her diary. Whenever she needed to sort her thoughts, that was what she did.

Dear Diary,

I scarcely know how to write the words that I heard only minutes ago. I don't want to write them, for I fear putting them into print will make it more real. But that is what needs to happen. Perhaps then the truth will begin to sink in.

Thomas is dead. I learned the dreaded news upon my arrival in Cedar Springs. Thomas's brother, Cade, met me at the stage stop. He looks a bit as I thought Thomas would, though he's sturdier than Thomas described himself. I will never forget the look in Cade's eyes. I have never seen such emptiness. And as I remember the loss of his wife several years ago, I know that Thomas's death must have dealt a harsh blow to him.

I have only minutes to decide what I am to do. Though, I suppose, there is really little choice in the matter. Cade has graciously agreed to pay my fare back to Denver. It's a good thing too, because I am nearly penniless at the moment.

Only the thought of facing Uncle Stewart makes me question my decision. What will he do when he discovers I have not been able to follow through with his plan? Never mind that it is no one's fault. He will somehow find a way to assign blame to me. I don't fear for myself, but I do fear that he will take his anger and disappointment out on Nana.

From below, she heard the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor and knew her stage would be leaving soon. She packed the diary back in her bag and took a few minutes to freshen her appearance before leaving the room.

❧

“Gee-up!” Cade snapped the reins, and the horses began walking, kicking up the dry Kansas dirt. He paid no heed to the direction he went; his bays knew their way home.

The familiar knot in his stomach coiled tighter the farther he got from town. He hated leaving the woman there alone. She'd walked away from him, following Mrs. Cooper up the stairs, her shoulders slumped, her head down.

Thomas had not told him much about Miss Wagner's life in Denver, but he wondered if she had much to return to back home.

When she'd gotten off the stage, he'd been taken with her obvious awkwardness. Her chin had tipped down, and he'd dreaded telling her about Thomas. She'd come all that way thinking her future was secure, and he'd had to tell her otherwise.

And when she'd mistaken him for Thomas, his own heart clenched. He shook his head. It had been one of the most difficult moments of his life. These past two days had been almost more than he could bear. Of course, he was acquainted with grief. When he'd lost Ingrid, he'd thought his body would wither up and die with the pain of it. But he'd had Adam to care for and raise. And the women in town helped out a great deal. Some of the townsfolk cared for baby Adam while Cade resumed farm work, but they had their own lives, their own families to care for. Eventually, Cade assumed full responsibility for Adam. And his brother was there to pick up the slack around the farm when he had to tend to his son.

But now Thomas was gone. It was only he and Adam. How would he manage the farm and his busy five year old? Even if he got neighbors' help for awhile, how would he manage every day, month after month, year after year? He tried to picture his daily routine without Thomas. He would prepare breakfast as usual. But Thomas had always milked the cow, collected the eggs, and slopped the pigs while he'd fixed breakfast. Now he'd somehow have to do all that. And the laundry, mending, cleaning, and butter-making. And, with spring arriving, the land had to be plowed and the seed planted. That alone was a dawn-to-dusk job, if he wanted to have enough harvested to keep them all winter. How could he manage Adam with all that? He and Thomas together had scarcely managed to get all the work done.

Lord, I can't do all that by myself,
he prayed.

He rubbed his chin and felt the scruff from the past couple days. His mouth was dry, his throat tight. He sighed heavily, rocking on the seat as the wagon cleared the ruts in the road.

Sara McClain was at the house with Adam now, and he knew she would offer to help out. But he needed more than help. He needed a full-time worker. He needed someone to care for Adam while he worked in the fields. He needed someone to do some of the chores around the house. He needed. . .

A wife.

The word hit him square in the gut. He didn't want a wife. He felt as if he still had one.
Ingrid.
His heart still belonged to her. It seemed wrong to even think of taking another woman. It seemed like a betrayal.

She's gone. I know that, and losing her was too hard. Too painful. I don't want to go through that again. Loving hurts.
Hadn't he loved Ingrid and lost her? Hadn't he loved Thomas and lost him too?

But he needed help, there was no denying that. There were practical matters to consider here. He didn't have the luxury of getting his life the way he wanted it; if he did, he would be on his way home to Ingrid even now.

One of his bays whinnied and scuttled around a deep groove in the road. The afternoon sun beat down on his skin, and a trickle of sweat rolled down his face from beneath his hat.

What was he to do? If he took a wife, it would have to be an arrangement of sorts. He couldn't give himself to her the way he had to Ingrid. But what woman would marry under those circumstances?

Emily.

His grip tightened on the reins. He thought of Thomas's words about his intended. He'd read parts of her letters aloud, so Cade knew a little something about her. And somehow, he knew, Thomas would have approved of Cade taking care of Emily. He'd once said there was some sort of strain between Emily and her guardian uncle.

He rubbed his chin. Could this be the answer? Would Emily agree to such a thing? His heart caught in his chest even as his thoughts bounced to and fro. It might work. She might agree to marry him, and then Adam would have a woman to nurture him the way only a ma could. He wanted that for his son.

He would do it. He would ask her. The worst thing she could do was say no. He noted the sun's position in the sky and drew in a quick breath. The stage was leaving after the noon meal. And Emily would be on it.

He pulled the reins to turn the horses. He had to get back to town and fast.

“Yaw!” he cried, and snapped the reins.

❧

Emily made her way out to the porch with her two satchels in hand. She felt clean after washing the dust off her skin and brushing the dirt from her hair. She'd wanted to change her dress, but the other two in her case were in no better condition. So she'd made do and beat the dirt from the material with her brush.